Ding Dong Mom

This post will be nothing like what you might be imagining. lol

When I was a kid, I used to want to take a lunch box to school instead of eating hot lunch. I actually went to an elementary school where the hot lunch was delicious almost always.  The kitchen was ran by Hispanic women who made things like they would at home, they also served things like they would at home. lol

Anyhow, the reason why I am bringing this up is because I start school tomorrow (one of them anyway) and I've been wondering what kind of Mom I am going to morph into next. By that, I mean, I have been working 45+ hour weeks since the kids were placed here but I've been working from home.  In their eyes I AM a stay home mom.

I worry since I will be taking a full load at two schools and still continue to work at home that my Mama Points TM  will go further down. I worry about maintaining my health and limiting my fatigue.  I already know that I am the tough one. I'm the one that rides them and pushes them to do their best and most of the time I'm the one whose all business, while Hubbins is the movies and games parent especially since I got sick. Most of my energy goes into making sure everything runs around here.

I try to do things in my own way. Things that aren't too mushy or obvious because let's face it, I still fear regression and meltdowns and even though that doesn't happen as often, my kids are still their own worst enemy when it comes to sabotaging themselves.

So back to the lunch from home. When I was younger, I used to see the majority of the kids who brought home lunch had this familiar foil wrapped hockey puck like object in their lunch boxes. It was a little chocolate cake with filling inside and it was called  a ding dong. I had actually never had one, but what touched me was the fact that I believed their mother's made and wrapped these little cakes for them. I wanted a mother who would do that for me. So I begged and begged for lunch from home. When I finally was sent to school with my lunch, I was disappointed to see that I did not have that little foil wrapped gift in my box. I figured it was because it was my grandmother and not my mother who took care of me. I knew the lunch was packed with my grandmother's love but it wasn't the same.

It stuck with me. It stuck with me until the day I bought my own box of ding dongs and opened them to find they were already wrapped in foil and no one's mom was doing them any favors. lol!

But that feeling I had, that those kids mother's cared so much for them. That's how I want my kids to feel. I don't want them to feel anything less because I'm not their "mom" and I'm their Aunt.  I want to find the foil wrapped little cake that makes them feel they are loved by a mother.  That they are no less then anyone else.

I've been trying to find that but I guess I will never know until later when they come back as adults and share their stories.  I don't want my life to interfere with theirs. I want it to be something they can be proud of and be part of.  I am going back to school for all of us.  To try to make a better life for us all. To keep my health so that I can accomplish it all. But I hope it's not at their expense and I will do everything that I can to keep things running as smoothly as I can.

A mother's self-imposed guilt is a strong thing, isn't it? 

That Mom...

I know we've circulated posts about what type of Mom we thought we would be growing up. I still have ideas on what type of Mom I might be.

Some of you may be going..."Huh? Aren't you a Mom already?" The short answer...no.

I do all the Mom things but no, I am not a Mom. I am an Aunt. I've always did the Mom things but have been the Aunt. It's all so confusing to me and if it's confusing to me I can't imagine what the kids are thinking. I'm not trying to fill my sister's place, hell, I'm not even sure she had a place.

But I know I am not their Mom and even though on good days the boy likes to call us Mom and Dad, I don't think he or any of the others really think of us that way.

Which brings me to the whole ideas of what type of Mom I might be. I keep thinking if I have bio kids, I am going to do this and I am going to do that. But I worry about what the other kids might think and feel. Will they think that I am favoring our bio kids because they are biologically ours or will they realize or be able to understand that this is the way it is in some families?

I have things that I want for them, keepsakes- scrapbooks and homemade items that I want to make sure they have because if I did have bio kids, they would have those things already.

Many people will probably think I'm wrong, but they don't know the dynamics in my home. I want to start bringing out these things and working on them in front of them and explaining to them what I am doing.

"I am making this blanket for you because if you were born to me, I would have done this for you as a baby."

I don't know if it's wrong, but I want them to know, in case we do have bio children that our children aren't being treated better or like they are special but like they should be treated and all children should be treated.

I also walk the fine line with their disorders because they can't be treated entirely "normal" yet. I don't know if we ever will have that with them. But I know they are going to grow up and most likely have families of their own and I want to model for them what a family should be like, what a Mom should be like.

I know I am failing now. I am so frustrated and confused and unsure of how to approach these issues and how to treat them and I am screwing up. I am approaching this whole situation with too much logic and problem solving and not enough human, if that makes sense?

I'm always trying to fix it and never meeting them on their level of who they really are and not a disorder or not what I need to make sure doesn't happen again.

The other day, I got into it with the oldest over dinner. I'm trying to teach her to cook (something I never learned). I was trying to teach her how to brown ground beef. I left her with exact instructions on what to do while I quickly took care of something for someone (less than 5 minutes) and when I came back she had lowered the temp and done who knows what so she could go back to her room. I called her back out...

I tried to explain to her why what she had done was wrong and what could have happened but she told me "Whatever". To which I set her straight. I believe in nipping that kind of thing in the bud.

She went off to cry and I rationalized to myself that I wasn't there to be her best friend. I only have 5 more years. I've tried to explain that to her. She wants to move out, have kids, etc...

I've tried to explain to her that I am under a tight schedule to teach her what she needs to know. She wants to have kids, how is she going to feed them if she doesn't know how to do the basics? How is she going to be independent if she doesn't learn these things? I tried to explain to her that she needs to have respect and that I am leveling with her because I want her to understand the monumental task that we have ahead of us. I told her it wasn't her fault her mother didn't teach her like she should have but I have my 5 years and I am going to do what I can...

But later, I cried about it. I don't want to hurt her. But I feel like I have to be hard. I have to try and make them understand. I can't let them go on and repeat the cycle. I can't let anymore babies suffer...

We've Come A Long Way

As I sit here and click through all the RAD blogs I can get my hands on, each time I read something I can so relate to it's like that feeling you get when you find $20 you didn't know you had on the bottom of your purse or in your pants pocket.

For two years, I've felt hopeless and like a monster at times because I regretted my own family basically. I thought the kids were doing this to me because we were related and I'm a person their mother clearly hated. Then I thought I was just paying for her sins because it's her role that I am filling.

I questioned God big time because didn't he just throw me for a huge loop with Hubs situations and didn't I pay enough for other people's sins? I mean what the hell did I do exactly? That type of thing, but I don't even do that anymore. It's pointless.

Every morning like clockwork in a singsong voice as my husband goes by their rooms "Good Morning Daddy, I loooove you!" from multiple kids.

I'm walking behind Hubs usually or maybe 10 paces or so behind. Nothin'. Like I don't exist. It's been like that from day 1. Unless you count the chimes of "Did you wash clothes last night?", "What's for breakfast?", "Did you remember to buy me __________?", or "I need ____ ASAP".

I don't know why, but I don't take it personal anymore and I'm not even trying to figure out why.

But yesterday as we were crouched around on the floor working on a puzzle, they started talking to me about their baby sister. How they had hopes to play with her and how they had to wait for her to grow up some more and how she never will. They asked me about her footprints and hair and other little memories the hospital nurses had put together for them before they took Bela off the respirator.

I told them their mother had all of that and they told me they wanted to have it. I told them that the oldest had already asked me to ask because she wants to keep them all together and that I had but they won't give it to me.

There was anger and I realized they aren't calling their biological mother "Mom" any more, but they are calling her Jo.

When they first came, I had no idea how extensive the abuse and trauma was. I didn't agree with the foster parents telling the children to call them Mom and Dad and to call my sister Mama Jo. I thought it was wrong.

Of course, my background is that my grandparents raised me for a chunk of my life when I was their age and they had me call them Mom and Dad and I could see how it hurt my mom and I would call her Mommy. But even as simple as it might seem. It was very confusing for me.

This time I didn't correct them. They said they hated her and I said nothing. I sat there and at first I wondered if by not saying anything this would backfire in the long run. Jo is bent on telling the kids if she ever sees them again that I took them away and that I turned them against her.

I've never told them anything to make them dislike her. I've only spoken the truth with no ulterior motives. I know what it's like to be told my mom is evil and a snake and that she doesn't love me. Almost 15 years later, I don't speak to my grandparents to this day. It never ends well.

But I don't want to tell them how to feel and I don't want to stop them from getting their feelings out. Right now, I hate my own mother and if someone were to tell me I shouldn't I don't think I'd like them either because what do they know about my relationship with my mother, you know?

I don't know if silence was the best thing or what but *sigh* I don't know what would've been best. I'm trying to tell myself not to worry about it, but there are 5 of them and it will come up again.